


Ghosts of the Past Sorcerers

by Bard_Orkenshield



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din trying to be a good father, M/M, SWTOR never happened, gender neutral Revan, the Force works in mysterious ways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27640547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bard_Orkenshield/pseuds/Bard_Orkenshield
Summary: The Mandalorian’s quest to return the foundling to his kind had brought them to a remote outer-rim planet, where they were approached by a mysterious stranger for a job that revealed lost history of Mandalorians and the order of sorcerers they were looking for.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Baby Yoda, The Mandalorian | Din Djarin/Mysterious Stranger (Star Wars) | Revan
Kudos: 18





	Ghosts of the Past Sorcerers

They circled around for quite some time before he finally spotted a space port to land in. It’s rare those days, with no planetary porter control greeting them mid-air and guiding them before they entered the damn atmosphere. But the Mandalorian and the founding in his care could use the discretion just about right now.

Dantooine seemed like a slow going agricultural planet. From what he saw in the air, the Empire definitely left its mark here, with multiple military warehouses by the space port and deserted mining ruins that cleavage the vast plain into sections. But the Empire should be gone now. At least no imperial fighters were patrolling in the sky anymore. The Mandalorian made a mental memo that he thought the Empire were gone while he was still with the Bounty Hunter’s Guild on Nevarro. Always be vigilant and move fast had kept them safe for months.

One lead for his quest to reunite the foundling with his kind had plotted their course right to this remote planet. An artifact he recovered in a cave (that some Rancors had made a comfortable nest out of it for generations) while he was doing errand to earn some credits mentioned a prominent order of sorcerers once inhabited Dantooine for a long period of time - and that was long ago, from what he could tell of said artifact. It could be the Jedi sorcerers he was looking for. He was not hopeful that he would find anything useful here, but anything to help finding where the little one belonged.

The kid got curious every time they hit a new planet. Din Djarin just parted with the deck officer and was on his way to the nearest cantina when he realized the young foundling was staring at the opposite direction to where they were going. Before long, the child began crying as if to protest Din for not going where he wanted.

“What?” Din Djarin stopped and asked.

The child only looked at him, pointed at the way leading to one of the many imperial warehouses, and cooed.

“No, we’re not going in there.” He said to the child, “I’ll try to get some information about your kind in the town. Hopefully I can find some work to pay for the fuel as well. The sooner we get what we want and leave, the better. No side adventure this time. Now, the cantina. ”

The child protests, but his cradle slowly caught up the Mandalorian any way.

The cantina is certainly not the best Din Djarin had seen. It’s well past noon, most of the dockers were back at the space port, only a few locals hanging around with drinks and exchanging low chatters. He made his way straight towards the barman, conscious of bodies tensed up and eyes flickered on them as he and the child stepped in. He thought he’d grown used to that, he _had_ been used to that. Mandalorians were not exactly the most welcomed people in the Outer Rim. But that was before he was bond to the life of another. Now the slightest amount of attention would ignite his urge to grab the kid, shoot his way out and leave this planet for good.

“What can I get you, Sentient?” The barman, a senior Duros, asked.

“Some broth for the kid, ” He said, handing over a few hundreds imperial credits. “And some information.”

“Well, the only thing I can give a being this young would be nutrient paste made from Jogan Fruit.” They said. 

Anything would be better than the paste Din Djarin made from ration stick aboard the Crest.

“I could give him some extra cane syrup, you know, just to boost his appetite. “The Duros added, noticing the child is clearly not buying the idea of eating paste. ”Hard to get kids to eat anything these days.”

“That will do, thank you.” Din Djarin nodded.

He took a moment to access the local patrons. Most of the people at the cantina are humans, apart from one Twi’lek and one Rodian. All dressed like farmers. He saw one blaster rifle sitting by one of the tables, others are agricultural tools.

“Chow is here.” The Duros came with steaming nutrient paste, the syrup on the side is not something Din would register as syrup. The Duros began mixing some syrup into the paste, while the child cooed to make him add more. “So, what kind of information do you seek?” The Duros asked.

Din look at the child poking the food with steel spoon. “I’m looking for work to cover fuel, if you know anything available around here I would check them out. I’m also looking for any being of his kind.” He said.

“Well, what’s his kind called?”

“I do not know.” He weighed if he should tell the Duros about Jedi. He didn’t know anything about them, other than they were sorcerers that could move objects with their mind, and that their order had fought the Mandalorians thousands of years ago.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you here. I never saw anything like him. He’s too good-looking to be a Rodian, or a Duros - that I can tell. I had assumed you were his family.” The barman raised his hand to touch the child’s pointy ears, but the child was now extracted, and not by the food. He seemed restless, though he still grabbed the spoon tightly with his little hand, he was looking everywhere around them. Din Djarin saw this as the signal of the patrons sharing the cantina had grown wary of their existence. He took out his boga bag and started transferring the nutrient paste into the bag. The child could eat it back on the Crest.

“What about job around the town? I see some settlement on the way here. Know anything about anyone looking for help?” He asked as he dealt with the purple sticky paste.

The Duros glanced at some of the patrons and asked, “what kind of job duration are you asking?” Short. But before Din could answer, he added, “Pardon me, but you are a Mandalorian, I’m afraid we don’t have much mercenary jobs around here. Only ones we have are far beyond the settlements. Farm jobs, and I’m talking at least for two seasons.”

The child had been pulling on his glove for some time, and started making anxious noise. Din turned to look at him and he could not understand what had made him so upset. The Duros, despite the straightforward remark, Din detected no ill-will from him. Rest of the patrons here were farmers. They may not like seeing a Mandalorian in their neighborhood cantina, but it’s not like they were going to attack them. The child only yelled louder when he asked what was wrong.

“What’s going on with you, little one?” The Duros bent down to check the child in his crib. Din saw this is where he should take the child and leave.They were drawing too much attention.

He had just got up and about to apologize to the Duros for the trouble, someone closely behind him suddenly spoke, “I may have a job for you.”

He had no idea how someone got behind him without him noticing anything. But it’s already too late. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he turned around and pulled his blaster to shoot. The one behind him grasped his wrist and suddenly he lost the control to pull the tigger, next thing the blaster was in his attacker’s hand. But he instantly threw a punch with his other hand, this time a mechanical hand grabbed his arm then another mechanical hand, with massive strength, took hold of his shoulder and pressed him to down to kneel on the floor. He could not get free from these hands. He looked up, panicked as the child crying behind him.

He saw two attackers standing above him. One is a strange-looking droid, looked like some kind of protocol droid, but its exterior was rusty all over. The droid was holding his left arm and shoulder. Beside the droid is a human, or some near-human spices, who was wearing a hood and a cloak. Din’s breath stopped as he made out the human-or-near-human’s face. They were wearing a mask, one that Din had not seen anything like it, but there was no doubt that the mask was Mandalorian.


End file.
